


the kids aren't alright

by hingabee, PunishedPyotr



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Sex, Dogs, Family Issues, French Food, Gen, Homophobic Language, Illustrations, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned violence, Military Training, Operation INTRUDE N313, Oral Sex, Setting-Accurate Slurs, ocelot being a general shithead but hes mostly bluffing, questionable parenting, traumatic events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/pseuds/hingabee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: And I still feel that rush in my veins/It twists my head just a bit to think/All the people in those old photographs I've seen are dead
Relationships: Gray Fox/Solid Snake, Kazuhira Miller/Ocelot, Kazuhira Miller/Solid Snake
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	the kids aren't alright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hideaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hideaki/gifts).



> thank you so much @hideaki for prompting this idea and motivating us to write this fic! it ended up being a bit messy and all over the place, but i hope you can enjoy it nonetheless!

  
  
_1995\. Some months before the storm._

It was a pretty typical day in the FOXHOUND training fields. “Hell Master” Miller ruled the recruits with an iron fist and had just dismissed practice for today. He had had them doing various simple physical exercises and one of them, a big burly ex-Green Beret (most of the recruits were ex-Green Berets) codenamed Pistol Dormouse, dislocated his elbow. Miller had briefly ridiculed him for his red-faced trying not to cry in sheer frustration then let them go. He held back one Solid Snake to work on his technique. He was pretty new - hadn’t even gone on a proper solo FOXHOUND mission yet and wouldn’t for some time - and Miller definitely had no ulterior motives.

Gray Fox lurked around for some reason, sitting on a nearby bench and sucking at his water bottle. He was never far from Snake’s side and at this point Miller didn’t bother bitching at him about it anymore. He ignored the way Fox’s eyes were glued firmly to Snake’s ass as Miller lectured him through lunge-squats. Snake was, as always, completely oblivious to it.

It was the same scene as basically any day here. Nobody ever got a break. Miller’s whole job was to terrorize the men to ensure that they were always physically and mentally prepared to go commit some plausibly deniable war crimes. There was no reason to expect anything to be different today.

Miller looked across the training field and saw a familiar figure approaching from the opposite end. His stomach dropped. It was the only familiar figure he wanted to see even _less_ than Big Boss and- hey, what the fuck was he doing at FOXHOUND anyway?!

“ _You!_ ” Miller barked. Snake stopped and turned to see, too. “What in God’s name? What the fuck are you doing here?”

"Oh, I was in the area and thought I'd stop by. I'm sure you can spare a little of your precious time for me, _Master_." Ocelot smirked as he walked closer, spurs jangling, and came to a halt next to Miller. "And judging by your recruits just lounging around like this, I take it you're done with training for the day?"

Miller felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance as he fixed his glare on Snake. "Snake!" he barked. "Did I tell you to stop?"

"No, Master Miller, sir!" Snake looked terrified and quickly scrambled to get back into his squats. Fox let out a laugh and waved at Ocelot, who by now was watching Snake with blatant interest. 

"Didn't know you were still around, you old bastard!" he said and lit a cigarette, seemingly enjoying this bizarre situation. "Still choking on the bosses dick for all it's worth, aren't ya?"

"Fox–" Miller growled dangerously. "Watch your mouth." 

"With all due respect, sir. You are my superior officer. That guy–" he motioned at Ocelot, "ain't nothing to me but a desperate faggot."

Snake seemed thoroughly confused, but couldn't hide a shocked giggle at Fox's words.

Narrowing his eyes, Ocelot twirled his moustache around his finger, looking adequately obnoxious. "Well, if it isn't Gray Fox. I'm surprised to see you are still hanging around with the recruits, aren't you too old for that by now? Or do you still happily fill the position of FOXHOUND's girl Friday?"

Fox made to speak but Miller held up his hands and interrupted him before he could even utter a word. "Enough! Fox, you take over from here. Snake, you listen to him, no playing around - I want to see your posture improved next time we train. And you–" he turned towards Ocelot. "We are going to have a nice little conversation in my office about you harassing my recruits."

Ocelot smirked and Miller didn't really have it in him to be mad about the fact that he was giving the old fuck _just_ what he wanted.

"So that's your twin, huh?" Ocelot whistled as they walked towards the building adjacent to the training grounds.

"Yes," Miller said through gritted teeth and flexed his hands.

"He's absolutely whipped for you - how endearing!" It was only a statement, but Miller felt like he was being accused.

"He's still green. Plus he's latched onto Fox. Makes things easier and more difficult at once, I suppose."

Ocelot hummed thoughtfully. "...so you haven't fucked him yet?"

Miller was actually so surprised by the question that he stopped in his tracks and whipped around to stare at Ocelot. " _What?_ "

Ocelot laughed at him. "Why are you so offended? It's not too far-fetched, isn't it? He looks just like John, too. I'm almost jealous of you!"

"You're disgusting. Don't tell me you–"

"Eli? Please, it hasn't even been a year since they dug him out of Iraq. I do have some morals, y'know."

"No, you don't," Miller growled, but started moving again.

“True.”

“You met him when he was twelve, you sick fuck.”

“Mantis is so overprotective of him I can’t get too close anyway.”

“Mantis?”

“Remember the little floating redhead? He’s not as cute anymore. Shame, really.”

Miller gave him an unamused look. “Did you fuck _Mantis?_ ”

“Maybe,” Ocelot said with a laugh. Knowing him, he was responding like that purely to irritate Miller and whether or not he’d actually done it had no bearing. “But the big guys have Eli tapped for FOXHOUND, so I’ve got to get a move on. I doubt he’ll agree to do it without a little… convincing.”

Miller snorted. “Good luck getting Big Boss to agree to taking another one of his sons on.” He glanced over his shoulder, slightly paranoid that Snake wasn’t still back at the training field with Fox. He was.

Ocelot raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t told him yet?”

“Not my place to tell him. Anyway, what are you planning to do about Big Boss? Don’t tell me that’s what you dropped by for.”

“No,” Ocelot said, waving a hand. “I told you, I’m just in the area.”

“Sure.”

“And nobody expects Big Boss to keep himself tied to a shitty little special forces unit in the States for much longer.”

“FOXHOUND isn’t shitty,” Miller muttered sourly. “Though I wouldn’t complain about a change in leadership. The next guy in line is definitely more levelheaded and mature.”

“The next guy in line has a habit of sleeping with his sister-in-law, but sure, that’ll never come back to bite him. How’d your divorce go, by the way?”

“Shut up.”

"Ah, I take it your daughter still asks about me, then." Ocelot grinned as they walked down the hallway to Miller's office.

God, he wanted to wipe that stupid smile of the bastard's face so badly. But he figured that this was exactly what Ocelot had come here for - he'd rather die than give him that gratification.

Usually the framed photographs of Catherine lining the shelves in his office were what kept him going through paperwork. Right now Miller would have preferred to take them all off and hide them in a box.

"How lovely!" Ocelot clasped his hands together. "She's grown up so much! What grade is she in now?"

Kaz sat at his desk and glared at him. "Fourth. And no, I don't want to see you in the crowd of her school's talent show."

Uncaring for the classified documents scattered across Miller's desk Ocelot sat his stupid, flat ass on it and started rifling through his inbox. Miller lunged for him.

“Hey, hey! You can’t do that!”

“Oh, like the drill sergeant is going to have anything important here.”

“Then why are you looking through them?!”

“Because I can,” Ocelot said, giving Miller the same look as a spoiled house cat who just batted a full mug of coffee off the side of a table.

Glowering, Miller plucked the files out of Ocelot’s hands and shoved them in the file cabinet. He threw his inbox and outbox trays in there too for good measure. He’d sort them out again later.

“Serious, Ocelot, _what_ are you doing here? I don’t even know where Big Boss is right now, not that he’d give a shit that you stopped by. He probably leaves out the back window when he hears your stupid spurs.”

Ocelot looked entirely unruffled but Miller knew that deep down he was stung by that. “You could at least ask me how I’m doing before dispensing the insults.”

Miller rolled his eyes. “ _Fine_. How are you doing, Ocelot? Got anyone hooked on heroin lately?”

“It’s not my fault you’re a lightweight when it comes to the stuff,” Ocelot sniffed, toying with his gloves. “But ever since Eli came back from Iraq, I’ve been quite focused on him, and he’s doing well. Better, I dare say, than your little boy toy Snake.”

“Snake’s doing _fine_.”

“How do you think he’d handle being in a POW camp for nearly four years?”

Miller glared. "You shouldn't make light of the situation just to one-up me. Eli's been through alot, knowing him he wouldn't appreciate you coming here to brag."

Ocelot hummed thoughtfully. "You haven't seen him in ten years. He isn't a little, angsty boy anymore."

God, he needed some coffee. Or a glass of whiskey. "And I thank _God_ for that."

Ocelot pursed his lips in fake annoyance, managing to look childish despite his age clearly showing on his face. "You know, it's kind of cute. Unlike mine, your Snake is completely _enamoured_ with you, McDonnel."

"Don't call me that."

"But isn't that what you go by these days? How did you even come up with that one?"

He wasn't going to give in to this, by now he knew Ocelot's game too well, considering he had been on the losing side one too many times when they had been younger.

"Both of the boys are unique," he said instead. "They share many traits but each of them possesses his own strengths and weaknesses as well. Most importantly, though, despite their looks, they don't have much in common with their father."

"...do I detect a hint of disappointment in that last statement?"

Miller scoffed. "Relief, if anything! I don't know if I could handle David acting like–"

"Oh! So you're on a first name basis with him already? My, my, Miller. You sly dog."

He knew he wasn't going to hit him, but he still threw his stapler at Ocelot's stupid mug - who caught it effortlessly and set it carefully back down on the desk.

“I’m not the one digging up somebody else’s personal business to get one over on an unrelated third party.”

“You’re not an ‘unrelated third party’, Miller, and I’m not trying to one-up you,” Ocelot blatantly lied. “I thought you might be interested in how Eli is doing after his stint as a POW. I understand it’s an issue near and dear to your heart.”

Reflexively, Miller rubbed his shoulder where his prosthetic met his flesh. “It’s none of my business what _Liquid Snake_ went through in Iraq. Like I said, he wouldn’t appreciate you-”

“Who said he has to know?”

“I’m tempted to contact him myself just to tell him what a catty little bitch you’re being behind his back. That’ll put a stop to your grooming.”

“You’re optimistic.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that brat with the funny name in the KGB you kept calling to complain about,” Miller said, then paused and narrowed his eyes. “... Ocelot, how do you say ‘mantis’ in Russian?”

“How many psychics do you think I know?”

"I can't believe I ever allowed you around my daughter..."

Ocelot wrinkled his nose. "Please, you should know me better than that."

Miller looked up at him. "Yes, I do in fact. I know that you always hold an ulterior motive and I don't see why that would stop you from harming a vulnerable child–"

"Neither of them are children, they are grown men by now." Ocelot leaned back and let his legs dangle off the desk, his stupid boots bumping against Miller's thigh playfully. 

"They weren't when you got your claws into them..."

"I think you're projecting," Ocelot said curtly. 

Miller clenched his fists. "Are you done? If you're just going to laze around and annoy me the least you could do is make yourself useful!" 

By now Ocelot’s boot was drawing deliberate lines down the leg of Kaz's fatigue pants. 

"Oh? What do you need my help with, _Master?_ " Ocelot asked mockingly.

Kaz sighed. It _had_ been a while - not just between him and Ocelot but... well. In general.

He hated being so predictable.

He reached past Ocelot, yanked open his desk drawer, pulled out a half-full cheap whiskey and knocked back a shot directly from the bottle. “Just make it quick,” he said, “I have to pick up Cathy from school in an hour.”

“So presumptuous,” Ocelot tutted, while making a show of tying his hair back. He slunk onto the floor, folding himself into the space between the desk and Miller’s knees. He grabbed Miller’s thighs with both hands and unzipped the fly of his fatigues with his teeth.

“I said get on with it, I don’t have all afternoon,” Miller said shortly.

“Unless you’ve got some Viagra in that desk drawer of yours I expect you to be patient, Kaz.” The use of his first name was pointed.

“I don’t give a shit if you can get it up or not.”

“I wasn’t referring to myself.” He nosed at Miller’s dick through his underwear. “You might spend your work days surrounded by fine young bucks but sadly, no matter what you do to them, it won’t turn back the clock.”

“Is that what you were trying to do when you fucked a teenager at the KGB?” Miller said, pushing Ocelot’s head away and pulling his dick out himself. He shoved it in Ocelot’s face, pumping his fist a few times to get the blood pooling.

Ocelot was just as predictable as Miller and immediately bit him.

“ _Fuck_ you,” Miller ground out, kneeing Ocelot in the ear. He stayed determinedly latched onto his dick by his teeth. Miller yanked his hair until he let go. “Why do you _always_ do this?”

“Because you always let me,” Ocelot said, licking his chops. “And you taste better when you’re bleeding.”

* * *

Within just a few weeks Miller could no longer pretend he was keeping Snake back after training because he needed the extra work. There were definitely recruits worse than him, and people were starting to notice. Miller was very aware that people were starting to notice but Fox had said it to his face.

“That’d be sexual harassment, seeing how I am his superior, so no,” Miller said stiffly.

“The other guys are teasing him about it,” Fox said.

“He’s… a professional soldier, is getting _teased_ really going to bother him all that much?”

Fox shrugged. “I’ll say, yeah.”

“...and confirming the rumors is supposed to help _how?_ ”

“It’ll make everyone else think he can get stuff from you. Like your cheap fucking weed.”

“I didn’t sell anybody weed, I just told the new guys that fifty dollars a gram is not a reasonable price, Fox.”

Fox leaned in closer and smirked. "Well, if you won't do it, someone else might come first..."

"If you're so keen on giving him even more reason to angst about his sexuality, be my guest."

"Please, he isn't as innocent as you think - he's been a soldier long enough to know the things that happen when someone stays in the showers after training for a little bit too long."

Miller raised an eyebrow. "I don't care what you do with him as long as it doesn't impact his performance."

Stepping back and towards the door of Miller's office, Fox smirked at him darkly. "Hey, I'm not the one who invited him to come have dinner with my lovely little family."

Miller's eyes snapped up to fixate him. "Shut your mouth, Fox, or I'll have you on cleaning duty for a month."

Raising his hands in a pacifying gesture, Fox shrugged and stepped out into the hallway. "I'm just saying, Master. I'm just saying..." 

Sitting back down at his desk and pulling at his hair, Miller growled into his cup of coffee. He was being too careless lately.

Snake was a nice kid and Miller genuinely liked him, the boy deserved to have something... _outside_ of the military every once in a while. For some reason, either out of reluctance to socialise or a particularly strong sense of duty - Miller couldn' tell - Snake never went off base, even when his comrades had the weekend off and went to town to get drunk and laid.

So what if he had invited him for dinner?! It had been a lighthearted remark after training, and Snake had laughed at it like it was the funniest thing in the world. It wasn't like Miller actually had set out a third plate that night in the hopes that–

 _Dammit._ He needed some air.

Upon daring to venture outside of his office he found Ocelot leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

“What are you-- don’t smoke indoors, you fucking idiot.”

“Good morning to you too, Miller,” Ocelot said, blowing the smoke in his face then stubbing it out against the wall, leaving a nice obnoxious little scorch mark for the janitor to deal with. “I heard you yelling at Fox. Were you really selling weed to your recruits?”

“No, I just disrupted a weed-selling ring instead of getting MPs involved. They should be thanking me. What are you doing here?”

“And did you really invite Snake to dinner?”

“What are you doing here?” Miller said again, deliberately ignoring him.

Ocelot stuck out his lip for a second, pouting, then resumed his normal demeanor. “I thought you had fun last time I was here. Am I to believe you don’t want me now? At least I didn’t go out of my way to visit you.”

“‘In the area’ again, I take it? Big Boss is still off-base somewhere, so good luck with that.”

“It’s cute when you assume I don’t know something before you tell it to me. May I come in?”

“I was just stepping out,” Miller said brusquely, walking past him.

Ocelot, damn him, followed casually, jangling with every step. “ _Is_ it true, though? Did you really invite Snake to dinner?”

“It was a _joke_.”

“Hmm. Was little Catherine in on the joke too, then? or did you have to explain the third plate to her?”

“Nobody said anything about a third plate,” Miller said, feeling caught. How did he…?

“Are you just looking for a replacement mommy for her since Nadine fucked off?”

Miller wheeled around on Ocelot, crossing his arms irritably. “What in the hell are you going on about, Ocelot? You’ve seen Snake. Does that look like ‘mommy’ material to you?”

“No,” said Ocelot, “I just wanted you to say that out loud where others could hear it.”

Miller looked around quickly. They were alone. Ocelot chuckled.

By now he honestly felt too old for quickies, not just physically but also... well. It wasn't often he got to relax nowadays and sex was a good way of doing that.

Ocelot however, was as insufferable and deliberate as always, biting at his neck before he could even properly step into the storage closet they had to pass on their way down the hall.

"Ugh, it smells like chlorine in here–" he complained and kicked a bucket over as he stumbled backwards with Ocelot latched onto him. "Close the fucking door, Ocelot."

They didn't bother searching for the light switch and Miller quickly became convinced that he was going to suffocate in the stuffy space - if not from the lack of oxygen then it would be because of the way his cock twitched under the familiar touch of leather gloves.

When Ocelot tried to kiss his mouth he bit him in turn. "Are you really that desperate? You haven't been this eager in years."

He was met with silence and for a very short moment, it felt like Ocelot had hesitated in his touch - maybe Miller had only imagined that though, because instead of telling him what the hell was up, Ocelot just wrapped his hand around both of them and started rutting against him like a horny teenager.

Miller rolled his eyes in the dark, but shut up as well, he wasn't one to complain about free sex.

"Y'know," Ocelot panted against his shoulder when they had finished and carelessly wiped himself off with one of the rags from the shelf, "if you're still excited to invite guests over for dinner so you can show off your new tableware set–"

"Fine. Tonight at seven," Miller growled. "But if you don't behave yourself around Cathy I will poison your dessert myself."

After he had fussed a little about privacy and public image he managed to convince Ocelot to leave the storage closet separately.

That was how Miller ended up standing in the dark for a full five minutes after Ocelot had left, eyes closed, and wondering where the fuck his life had started going wrong.

He was rudely pulled away from his self reflection by a startled yelp.

"M-Master Miller! You almost gave me a heart attack... _sir_."

Miller frowned. "Snake, what are you doing here?”

“Rat threw up in the showers, I came to get a bucket and mop. What are you doing here?” He opened the door a bit wider and Miller locked eyes with Fox behind him. Fox immediately broke into a shit-eating grin.

 _No fucking way_ , Miller thought. “Fox. What are you-”

“He’s helping me get Rat cleaned up, he was going to carry the cleaning solvent,” Snake said obliviously. “It’s a lot of… uh…” his eyes wandered down Miller’s torso. Miller glanced down and cringed; his belt was still undone. He quickly rebuckled it. Snake gave him a bewildered look and Miller became very, very conscious of the fact that his hair had to be messed up and knowing Ocelot he’d left a hickey or something and just, generally, it had to be obvious that he’d just had sex in the supply closet.

“You didn’t answer his question, Master,” Fox said, “why were you hiding in the supply closet?”

“I was also… looking for something,” Miller said, refusing to acknowledge this whole absurd situation.

“In the dark?”

“I was looking for the lightswitch.”

Snake silently reached to his side and flipped on the light.

“...thank you.” He brushed past Snake and left as quickly as possible, but not without shooting a murderous glare at Fox as he went, like this was all _his_ fault.

Seriously though, he’d beat the shit out of him if he started playing grab-ass with Snake in the damn supply closet.

* * *

The dinner invitation had gone over surprisingly well - Ocelot had behaved himself, Catherine had been overjoyed to see him, and Miller had made a frankly delicious coq au vin with freshly baked, slightly off-shape (Cathy had helped) baguette on the side. Ocelot had bitched about French food for a bit but enjoyed himself nonetheless.

After the dessert (white chocolate mousse, because Ocelot _hated_ white chocolate) Miller had put Cathy to bed, foolishly expecting for Ocelot to stay the night.

He hadn't. Important business. Had to be back in Moscow by the next day and then stop by Outer Heaven to check in on _things_.

Kaz hadn't bothered asking, nor to hide his anger, surprising himself with his own disappointment.

* * *

Things went back to normal for a while, training at FOXHOUND resumed and Kaz found himself even more charmed by Snake's naïve, good-natured stoicness.

Figures. 

Still, he felt bad for Catherine, the poor girl had enough stress in her life with her mother gone - now she kept asking Miller when Ocelot would stop by again. He didn't know what to tell her, frustrated with himself by wondering the same thing.

"Daddy," she announced on the second day of spring break over breakfast, "I don't wanna stay at Mrs. Gallego's again. Can't I come to work with you?" 

Miller rubbed his temples and stared into his coffee mug, blinking. "Huh?" 

"I don't want to see Camilla today, she won't even play Barbies with me." Cathy pouted around her spoonful of cereal. 

"Does the fact that you cut off your own Barbies' hair and drew tattoos on them with a sharpie have anything to do with that...?" 

"Camilla is boring! She doesn't even let her Barbies do anything fun! They're all doctors and ballerinas and teachers!" 

Miller gave her a thoughtful look. "Those are all admirable professions, Cath. What do your dolls do for a living?" 

At that, Catherine beamed and almost dropped her spoon in excitement. "Jess is a paleontologist and Emerald can talk to animals, ghosts and aliens. She was abducted by them too but she doesn't remember it because her secret twin sister Ruby took over her memories to protect her from the evil fairy–" 

"Cath, I'm sure you and Camilla can make up. I can't take you to work with me."

She kicked her feet under the table. "But I wanna play with the nice soldiers again! They're way cooler than Camilla!" 

Miller sighed. A few weeks ago they had run into Snake and Fox in a K-Mart - the two of them had decided to go into town over their three-day break together, which Miller was quite unhappy to learn of. When he had overheard the two familiar voices bickering in the snack aisle he quickly had tried to drag Cathy to the checkout, to no avail. 

The confrontation had been awkward, though Snake seemed to get along great with Catherine who hadn't noticed the irritated staring contest between her father and Fox. 

In the end, though, it had been him who reminded Snake that their movie was going to start soon and they had to arrive at the theater in time. (It was just like Fox to stock up on candy and snacks beforehand, to avoid spending money on the ridiculous mark-ups movie theatres demanded from their patrons, Miller had thought bitterly.)

"I can't, sweetie, sorry. Because even if I _wanted_ to take you–"

“Can’t you at least ask the nice soldiers to come over and play with me?”

“Cathy, they’re… they’re grown men. You don’t just ask grown men to come and play with little girls.”

Catherine rolled her eyes. “They can borrow my Barbies if they don’t have their own. Besides, you invited Uncle Ocelot over.”

“I told you to stop calling him uncle,” Miller said, his eye twitching.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I-- that’s enough, Cathy.” He pushed his sunglasses up out of the way and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I gotta go to work soon. Get ready to go to Mrs. Gallego's house, okay?”

“Daddy, _please_!" She looked at him with puppy-dog eyes." Are you gonna tell the nice soldiers to come visit me? We could play outside and take Taro on a walk together!” Their geriatric rescue mutt raised his head from the floor and thumped his tail a few times at the mention of his name.

“Taro doesn’t have the energy to keep up with you and Snake, sweetheart. Go get your things.”

Grumbling dramatically, Catherine got up and tipped the dredges of her cereal into the sink before stomping off to her room. Taro rested his head on the floor again. It was sad how he didn’t really get excited at hearing ‘walk’ anymore. He hadn’t even bothered to bark at Ocelot when he’d come for dinner.

Catherine was dropped off with Mrs. Gallego and admonished to behave; Miller went to work feeling quite tangled and pent up. He wanted to let off some steam. He loved his daughter with all his heart but being a single dad was fucking hard. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel he could trust Snake with her (though he _did_ feel like he _could not_ trust Fox) but he also didn’t want to set a precedent of encouraging her to be friendly with strange men three times her age. That was just asking for trouble.

Snake didn’t seem to think that far ahead. “It’s spring break, isn’t it? What’s Cathy doing if she’s not in school?”

“She’s at a neighbour's house,” Miller said evasively.

“I thought she was going to go stay at her mom’s or something.”

“No, she, uh– she went back to the Seychelles and sometimes calls or sends letters... but Cathy hasn't seen her for more than a year now.” In all honesty Miller would prefer for Nadine to either be fully involved with Cathy's life or not at all; this odd push-and-pull was already taxing on him, he couldn't imagine how his daughter must've felt about it. 

“Oh.” Snake frowned. It occurred to Miller that this was the first time he’d seen anyone actually feel sorry for him over the whole Nadine situation; everyone else either implied or outright told him he had it coming. “Well, I guess staying at a friend’s house is nice. Is she sleeping over?”

“No, her friend’s parents drop her off around the time school would have let out anyway. Somebody needs to walk the dog.”

Snake lit up. “You have a _dog_? Uh, Master Miller, if you want you could just let Cathy stay at her friends house. I could go over and walk your dog for you… if you’re busy, I mean.”

Miller snorted. “Cath suggested basically the same thing…”

“The same thing? That I come over and walk the dog?”

“She wanted to walk Taro with you, actually. But I told her no.”

“Why?” Snake said, sounding genuinely wounded. Miller stared at him, flabbergasted. He knew Snake wasn't all that social but considering he finally had found someone he could consider a friend - even if Miller didn't particularly agree with his choice of company - it probably wasn't that surprising for him to finally be coming out of his shell a little more. Maybe Miller had been too... _friendly_ with him, after all. 

"She's _nine_ years old, Snake."

"I've taken care of my younger foster siblings before," Snake mumbled. "it wouldn't be much different." 

Miller sighed. "Maybe hanging around with a guy twice your age has warped your idea of what's appropriate but I really think you should make some friends your own age."

"My own age? It's not about that– I just want to–" he stopped himself and looked down at his battered training shoes. "Nevermind, Master. I apologise for my insubordination, sir."

"You just want to see the dog, huh?" Miller snorted and uncrossed his arms. 

Snake dared to peek up at him and nodded meekly and Miller really didn't like how that made his chest ache. 

"Fine, you can stop by and walk him. Make sure Cathy doesn't feed him too many snacks though – Taro's old and has issues with his bowels, he needs healthy food and gentle exercise, nothing strenuous." He frowned. 

At his words Snake's entire demeanour changed abruptly and he straightened his back, eyes gleaming. "Thank you so much, Master! I'll make sure to take good care of both of them!" Then he seemed to remember who he was talking to and hastily saluted. "Sir."

Miller laughed at him. "You can drop the 'sir' if it's just me, Snake." 

Both of them looked at each other in surprise for a moment. Fuck, he was going to regret this, wasn't he?

* * *

When he returned home that evening he almost expected Ocelot to be lounging in the living room loveseat with a smug grin plastered on his face that said "I told you so~"

But when he switched on the light after stepping inside, the living room was empty except for Taro who greeted him with a tired 'woof'. 

"Did you have fun today, boy?" Miller smiled and took off his shoes, then crouched down next to the dog (his back aching) and scritched him gently between the ears.

"Daddy?" Cathy called from upstairs. "You don't need to make dinner tonight! David got me a Happy Meal and a donut before he left!" 

Miller felt his jaw tighten. _David_ , huh? 

He made a mental note to tear Snake a new one in the morning, both for giving out classified information (his personal name) and for taking his daughter to fucking McDonald’s. For now he just brushed his teeth, oiled his prosthetics, and went to bed.

When his phone rang long and repeatedly enough to wake him up, Miller thought it had to be some kind of emergency. He fumbled for it, shoving the receiver against his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Did I wake you?” As fogged with sleep as Miller’s brain was, he was still able to pick up the distinct tone in Ocelot’s voice that meant that he already knew he had, in fact, woken him up.

Miller let his head hit the pillow again. “Fuck you, Ocelot,” he said, “it’s three AM.”

“I know. I’m in your time zone.”

“Go the hell to bed. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait,” Ocelot said, with a weird insistence in his voice that made Miller pause.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“No, everything’s fine right now. Just thought I’d call.”

“Wanted to hear my voice, huh?”

“Maybe I should hang up,” Ocelot snarked.

Miller squeezed his eyes shut. Fucking Ocelot. “You’ve been so damn clingy lately.”

“I have not.”

“You show up again after _years_ and now I can’t get rid of you. You’re being clingy. What’s the deal? Did something happen with V?”

“V’s fine,” Ocelot said, sounding a little put-off. Miller couldn’t tell if he was lying about V being fine or if he was just pissy that Miller would ask after him. “Outer Heaven’s going great. Growing again like the good old days before you left.”

“Yeah, well, good for you. It’s still not a good place to raise a child, so I’m not going to apologize.”

“Oh, and FOXHOUND is? Cathy making friends with the spec ops soldiers, is she?”

Miller almost slammed the phone down reflexively. He _had_ to have his house bugged or something. He’d look for them when he got up. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not clingy.”

Miller sighed and let his head fall back onto his pillow. Ocelot was simultaneously the most competent and most childish person in the world to him. He couldn't deal with this.

"Then I'm going back to sleep–"

"Don't get too attached to Snake," Ocelot interrupted him. He sounded either drunk or high off his balls. Probably both.

"I'm not getting attached to him." He frowned. "...but why do you say that?"

"You know how it is with Snakes - just when you think you've got them eating out of your palm they find something else to wrap around and choke to death," Ocelot drawled, a sour quality to his voice.

"I told you, David isn't like his father. Nor is he like Eli. You should stop seeing them as extensions of Big Boss, they're their own–"

Ocelot gave a hollow laugh, and while it was probably supposed to make him feel ridiculed, Miller found that it sounded rather... _sad_.

He pulled his blanket up, it was getting cold.

"Are you done or can I hang up now?"

For a moment Ocelot went silent and Miller was about to put a phone away when Ocelot's voice suddenly crashed against his ear.

"Say, what are you wearing?"

Miller blinked and stared at the receiver. "Ocelot, did you change suppliers? Or are you trying to get off amphetamines again? You know that doesn't work for you, ri–"

"I'm as sober as I can be. Now, do you still sleep naked?" 

"Shouldn't you _know?_ " Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Ocelot could tell him the best before date of the yoghurt at the back of his fridge.

“Do you _want_ me to sneak into your house while you sleep? I was under the assumption that you would kill me if I did.”

“At this point I would just assume you’d finally lost it. You’ve been fucking weird lately, Ocelot.”

“I’m not the one being weird. You’ve gotten too comfortable at FOXHOUND.”

“If you mean that my tolerance for your bullshit is slipping away, then I’d consider that a good thing.”

“You’re no _fun_ anymore.”

“Go take a cold shower, Ocelot.”

“Only if you join me,” Ocelot purred.

“God, shut up. For your information, by the way, I _don’t_ sleep naked anymore,” Miller snapped. One night several years ago when Cathy had a nightmare and woke him up over it had put that habit to rest permanently.

“Shame.”

“Don’t call me again,” Miller said stiffly, then hung up before Ocelot had the chance to protest. For a moment it was too quiet; he laid back down and stared blankly up at the ceiling.

It would be better all around if Ocelot just stayed the hell out of his life - so why did he regret pushing him away?

* * *

It seemed as though as soon as Miller was able to put his gay bullshit with Ocelot aside, Snake came to him to dish a new helping of entirely different gay bullshit. He didn’t know what else he was expecting when Snake approached him after drills were done and asked if he could talk to him about a personal matter.

“Sure, Snake. Did something happen?”

“Um, well, you see…” Snake said, hemming and hawing while he toweled the sweat off his face. “I– I have been... recently. Thinking. Um–"

Miller raised an eyebrow, the boy looked as if he was going to throw up any second. "Snake," he said gravely. "would you prefer to discuss this in my office?" 

Looking panicked and relieved at once, Snake nodded awkwardly and trailed behind Miller like a beaten dog. 

After Snake had sat down, still clutching his towel and anxiously digging his nails into the fabric, Miller made sure to lock the door to avoid any interruptions. 

"You want something to drink? A Coke?" He motioned to the mini fridge he kept next to the desk. Being FOXHOUND's survival instructor (and close, even if reluctantly, to the commander) did come with certain perks. 

Snake nodded gratefully and Miller handed him a bottle which he immediatly latched onto, looking marginally better after fueling his anxious mind with caffeine and sugar. 

"So... what's the issue? Did something happen?" 

Snake avoided looking at his face and instead stared at the framed dinosaur drawings Catherine had given Kaz for his birthday. "Master Miller... did you ever feel..., er, _out of place_ during your training?"

It was an innocuous enough question, but there was an unmistakable weight to it. 

Snake took another sip of Coke and wiped his mouth. 

"Well," Kaz mused and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose I did. Though it wasn't just during my training - I never really fit in well with my peers." He deliberately left out the reasons _why_ , though. 

"Not just during your training? Ah, I don't know. I mean, I never really– until recently I haven't... _considered_..." 

"If I were you I wouldn't worry so much about sticking out. You are one of the most promising recruits this unit has ever seen, Snake. And your comrades respect you, from what I've seen. Have there been any... incidents where that wasn't the case?" 

Snake, who usually was fixed on his blank to mildly reactive expressions, cringed visibly at that. " _Oh_. Er, no, it's not that I have any issues with anyone. I just–" He sighed in frustration and dug his fingers into his hair. "It's– I guess I have an issue with myself...?" 

Miller blinked behind his shades. 

"Snake, I really want to help you. But I can only do that if you tell me what's going on." 

“It’s hard to talk about,” Snake mumbled.

“That’s why you came to me, right? Look, Snake, no matter what you tell me it won't leave this office, okay? I’ll keep it confidential, whatever it is.”

Snake slowly nodded. “Okay… well I…” he trailed off significantly, peeling away at the label on his Coke bottle. 

"Snake..." Miller sighed exasperatedly. 

“Have you ever experimented with men before?” Snake blurted out. “Is it normal? Just to try? I was thinking about it a lot and then…”

“Uh, Snake. Calm down."

Snake looked at him guiltily and Miller could tell the boy wanted nothing more but to sink into the floor. He took a few seconds to process all this. 

"There's nothing wrong with having... those thoughts. They're just that. _Thoughts_ ," he said, trying to be considerate but professional at once. 

Snake made a frustrated sound. “But what if it's more than that? Because I think I _like_ men. In _that_ way. Is that bad? What if the other guys knew, would they--”

“Snake, _relax_.” Dimly Miller wondered how this was only coming up now, when Snake was already well into his early 20’s and an active military serviceman for several years. “It’s not bad. There are plenty of men that like men, even in this unit.”

“There are?” Snake said, visibly both surprised and hopeful.

It didn’t seem appropriate to tell Snake outright that he was one of them, but still he nodded. “Of course, it’s not really information that you should be open about in the Army, but in FOXHOUND, at least, if anyone found out they wouldn’t _care_ , Snake.”

“Are you sure about that…?”

“Of course I’m sure. Just make sure that you keep any fooling around in private. You’d expect that much from someone who’s totally straight, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t want to walk in on one of your squadmates nailing his girlfriend.”

“I walked in on Rhino once, actually. I don’t even know how he got her past the security checkpoint. But Fox... ” He cut himself off and stared at Miller in mild shock over his own slip-up, looking caught. 

Miller resisted the urge to cover his face with his hands. “That’s besides the point, Snake… look, can you just tell me what prompted this? What’s this about Fox?”

“Well, uhh…” Snake shrunk in on himself, suddenly awkward again. “Fox and I were… talking… and that’s kind of what made me realize that maybe what I was feeling wasn’t normal.”

“It is normal, Snake, just a little uncommon. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Okay. Um. Anyway… I was just thinking about how… people would see it if I and Fox...” he flushed and looked away. “Not that there's anything we've actually done– not like Rhino and his girlfriend.”

“Did he touch you?” Miller asked, trying to disguise the way his urge to kill was rising. "Isn't he a little too old for you?" 

"What?" Snake exclaimed, eyes wide. "No! I mean– I don't know–" 

Miller watched him cling to the Coke bottle, fully expecting him to crush the glass in his nervous grip. 

"I saw he had... some magazines. Y'know, _sexual_ ones." Snake gestured awkwardly. "With _men_. And I guess I was so surprised that I stared and he noticed and–" 

Good lord, he didn't need to hear this. "Snake, it's alright, as long as it's consensual I don't give a crap what you kids get up to. Still. Fox _is_ the oldest member in your unit, I should probably give him a little pep-talk about responsibility."

Snake paled. "Pep-talk?! You're going to tell him? N-No, Master, please–" 

"I already told you that what happens in this office doesn't leave the room." 

Hanging his head low, Snake seemed to calm a little and finally put down the bottle to pull at his hair again. 

Back on Mother Base he had noted Eli doing the same thing when he was anxious or frustrated. Miller sighed. 

"Is there anything aside from providing assurance I can help you with, then? You should hit the showers before dinner starts."

Snake slowly looked up at Miller from between his fingers, blushing harder than a lovesick school girl. 

...what the hell? 

"No," he said too quietly and cleared his throat. "No. Thank you, Master Miller. You're right, I should go."

"See you tomorrow, then, Snake," Miller shrugged and watched him hurriedly slink off through the doorway. 

"Yes, Sir. Good night, Sir."

The door closed and Miller looked at where Snake had sat just moments ago, then to the half empty bottle of Coke. 

* * *

Thankfully Cathy had made up with Camilla and had even been invited for a sleepover, which Miller gladly consented to. He knew she needed “girl time” and it was difficult for him to provide that without her mother around. Plus it was nice to get a Friday night to himself, even if it just meant catching up at work on FOXHOUND without having to worry about getting home in time to make sure Cathy went to bed at a decent hour. It was however a quite _in_ decent hour when Miller finally returned home alone.

Ocelot was in his living room.

“Ocelot,” Miller said, “what are you doing in my living room?”

Ocelot didn’t respond for a second, just uncrossing then recrossing his legs from his comfortable vantage point on the couch. "Finally," he said, “Nadine called.”

“Fuck. When?”

“Half an hour ago, maybe? Forty-five minutes?”

It was never a good sign when Ocelot was being vague. “ _Please_ tell me,” Miller said, closing his eyes tight and pinching the bridge of his nose, “that you didn’t talk to her.”

“You weren’t home.”

“So let the answering machine get it. Please god, tell me you let the answering machine get it.”

Ocelot gave him a tight-lipped almost-smile that clearly said he did not let the fucking answering machine get it.

 _Bastard_.

Miller sat down heavily on the couch next to him. “I hate you,” he sighed.

“Don’t you want to know what Nadine had to say?”

"Let me guess, first she complained about me and then started insulting you."

Ocelot chuckled and petted his leg. "I really don't understand why you got divorced, you two are made for each other." 

Miller was too exhausted to argue with him, to chase him out of his home and tell him to never show his stupid face again. 

Instead he leaned into Ocelot's side, hiding his face against his scarf. The bastard still used too much cologne. 

"I'm so tired..." he mumbled. 

"You're getting old," Ocelot teased, but didn't pull away, and kept his hand on Miller's thigh, absentmindedly (or at least pretending to be) circling his fingers against the fabric of his pants. 

"Old? I feel _ancient_. Cathy's turning ten in three months."

“Big milestone. Planning the party yet?”

Miller snorted. “What’s the point? She has one friend and she doesn’t even get along with her half the time. Kind of limits the invite pool.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure Snake would come too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I could be there.”

“Shut up, Ocelot. You know I don’t like you getting friendly with my daughter.”

“She’d be the first among us to have a decent tenth birthday,” Ocelot pointed out.

Miller was caught off guard for a moment. Ocelot was right about that, yes, but it was more surprising that he’d imply anything about his own childhood. He liked to act like he’d sprung into the world fully formed at age twenty. “I’ll take her to the amusement park,” Miller said at length.

Ocelot rolled his eyes, and pinched Miller’s leg. (He ignored Miller trying to swat him away at that.) “So you’ll just send her on all the rides by herself? To my understanding they don’t allow prosthetic limbs in roller coasters.”

“Uh-- well, it is a safety issue, I suppose, but… hm.”

“You’ve got three months, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Ocelot said, abruptly changing the subject that _he_ had brought up in the first place. “For now, it’s nice to have the house to yourself, isn’t it? Shouldn’t that make you feel young again?”

“My back hurts.”

“I’ll give you some percs if you stop bitching. Are we having sex or not?”

Miller squinted at him. It was weird to see Ocelot so all over the place but oddly… enjoyable, in a way. Sort of made him feel like, for once, he had the upper hand.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Why not.”

Maybe if he’d gotten rid of the king-sized bed after Nadine left him he’d have an excuse not to fall for this bullshit anymore.

There was no urgency or any of the desperation of the last few times they had fooled around as they walked upstairs. They undressed in silence and Ocelot unpromptedly helped Miller unstrap his prosthetics and carefully set them aside against the wall. 

A long time ago Miller would not have let anyone touch his stumps, but Ocelot was a cunning man and had managed to worm his way into his head so intricately that he didn't even have it in him to object anymore. 

With anyone else he would feel patronised, belittled by how condescendingly their hands ran over his aching body - but Miller was long past all that with _him_ , he knew that Ocelot was the only person in the world that had never pitied him. 

Besides, he couldn't really bring himself to care _and_ Ocelot was being surprisingly gentle... which usually only happened when you least expected him to be. 

"Can you stop fucking worrying for one second, Kaz?" Ocelot growled against his neck and grazed his teeth over his jaw. 

He leaned over and fumbled around with the night stand drawer, almost knocking Miller's shades off it, evidently looking for lube. 

"Hey, uh–" Miller put his hand on Ocelot's arm when he reached back to get himself ready. "I'm too tired for anything exciting, do me instead." 

Shrugging, Ocelot did just that and quite rudely flopped Miller on his stomach to get better access. 

"It's been a while, huh..." 

It _had_ been a while since they had done it properly. Especially this way around. 

Ocelot grinned against the back of Miller's neck when he lined himself up. "Don't fall asleep while I fuck you, old man." 

"That would only reflect poorly on yourself–" Miller started but hissed when Ocelot sank in. Fuck. It hurt a little. 

But it felt good.

Miller knew he was too damn old for this kind of masochism shit but at the same time, the fact that he hadn’t done it in so long made it all the better. Missing half his leg made it easier for Ocelot to manhandle him; missing his whole arm made it all the harder for Miller to fight back if he did something he didn’t like. Not that he had much leverage to do that with on his stomach anyway. At this point it didn’t matter.

Ocelot kept up a slow and aching monotone thrust for a good few minutes before Miller realized he was _trying_ to draw this out. Miller twisted around and snapped at him. “ _No edging_.”

“But it’s more fun that way,” Ocelot purred. He gripped Miller’s wrist, pinning it against the mattress for good measure. “Or do you not think you could handle it like you used to, Kaz?”

It was a direct attack on his pride that Miller chose not to rise to. “Knowing FOXHOUND, some bullshit will come up tomor- ah-- tomorrow that I’ll have to take care of.”

“You’re really busting your ass for this unit.”

“...don’t say that kind of thing right now…”

Ocelot leaned in close, right up against his ear like he thought someone could hear him. “Why do you do it?”

“What?”

“Why give so much for FOXHOUND when you can’t even stand being in the same room with Big Boss anymore?”

“...”

He wouldn’t have had an answer for that in the best of times, but it was especially hard to come up with something to say when Ocelot’s dick was ramming into his prostate. Miller buried his face in his pillow, feeling a bit nauseated. Ocelot’s motives were easy to follow, even if his actions weren’t -- he was ‘in love with the legend’.

What was _Kaz_ in it for?

* * *

"Good morning, Master..." Snake said sheepishly as he passed Miller during the recruit's daily morning laps. 

"Morning, Snake," he said and adjusted his shades just in time for Fox to run by with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, throwing a lazy salute at Miller. 

He quickly caught up with Snake, elbowing him playfully. 

Miller frowned and rubbed his neck, making sure his jacket's collar was covering Ocelot's stupid teeth marks. 

He was too old for this shit, damnit. 

"Master!" Snake jogged in place next to him as he finished his lap. "Can I talk to you about the upcoming survival field training?" 

Miller blinked. "Sure. How many laps you got?" 

"Ten, Sir!" 

Miller noticed Fox's smirk as the man approached again and suddenly became hyper aware of the other recruit's curious stares as they passed them as well. 

"Stop blabbing and do another ten, then!" he barked at Snake whose eyes widened as he quickly got moving again. "You didn’t join this unit just to talk, you layabout!”

Snake looked absolutely miserable when he finished, most of his comrades were already done by that point, though of course they had only run the mandatory ten warm-up laps and then moved on to the actual training. 

Not Snake though, he had taken Miller's punishment without complaint and done his twenty in almost the same amount of time. 

"I've got five minutes for you, boy," Miller hummed and watched Snake crumple down in the shade, desperately reaching for his water bottle. 

"I–" He gasped and cleared his throat. "I– the field training– Sir!" 

"...what about it?" 

Snake rubbed his sweaty and red face with his arm, quickly getting frustrated and just stripping off his shirt to wipe himself down. 

Miller averted his eyes behind his shades. 

"We– we'll get split into teams, right?" 

"Yes. Though you will be tested for your individual ability as well."

Snake huffed and looked up at him, his hair a messy nest sticking into his face. "Are the teams put together randomly? Or... is there a system?" 

Raising an eyebrow, Miller crossed his arms. "Usually I match two recruits who I think will work well together but also challenge the other to bring out their strengths. Why do you want to know? I'm not going to pair you with a buddy just because you ask me to, y'know."

Snake raised his hands defensively and shook his head. "No! Not at all! I actually wanted to ask... uh..."

"Ask what?" Miller was pretty sure the five minutes had long passed. 

"Can't I go by myself?" Snake finally asked, voice pressed and lined with uncertainty. 

Miller regarded him with a frown. "What? Why?" 

“I don’t… I think some of the guys wouldn't want to pair up with me if they knew… what I am.” Miller figured Snake had no idea that he was thinking of the wrong _‘what_ he was’. “I mean, it’ll be in really close quarters and all that. We’ll definitely see each other in... compromised situations. N-Not that I’m thinking about--”

“Snake, I trust your ability to be a professional,” Miller said. “I doubt anything would happen during survival training. It’s not exactly a sexy environment.” ...assuming Snake didn’t take after some of his father’s proclivities.

“It’s not me I’m worried about. I just don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” Snake grumbled. “Besides, I’d get paired up with Fox, wouldn’t I?”

“You don’t know-”

“We’re the closest in skill level.”

Miller hesitated. He was right, they were. And while he hadn’t made assignments yet… pairing Snake up with Fox was what he would have done. He didn’t even particularly want to, considering how little he trusted Fox around Snake these days, but pairing either of them up with any other recruit would be unfair for all parties involved. (Well, Fox didn’t really need this training, Miller just hung on to him to keep it at an even number.)

On the other hand, Miller _really_ didn’t trust Fox around Snake these days. Especially in an environment that was so wild and potentially intimate. He opened his mouth to say something-- then realized that, seeing as Snake was an adult, he really shouldn’t be sticking his nose in this. He closed his mouth again.

“Master?” Snake grunted.

“Uh... so? If I paired you with Fox, where would be the issue? You two are practically attached at the hip anyway..." he left it to Snake to read into that phrasing or not. 

"Ah, it's not like that–" Turning his face away, Snake rubbed his arm bashfully. Miller's words had hit the nail on its head. "We're not, I mean, _he's_ not–" 

Fully aware of his position and how he was in no place to question his recruits about their personal lives, Miller uncrossed his arms and sighed. 

"I don't give a shit if you are, Snake. As long as you don't let it affect your performance everything's alright in my book." 

Snake looked up at him again. It seemed they were both surprised by this blatant lie. 

"Master–" 

"I think we are done here. If you need any more... personal support, I'd prefer for you to approach me _after_ work."

Snake got up and eyed him dubiously. "Wouldn't that look even more odd than you holding me back after training, though?" 

Miller paused. Snake, not unlike Eli had been, seemed more perceptive than his father when it came to... things like _this_. Still, he was pretty sure all of them would barely make it in a normal social setting outside of the military. 

"Anyone giving you crap for that? Is that why you're so anxious to... _stand out_ , Snake?" 

"I... you know how it is with rumours..." 

He really needed to shut up, but Miller's curiosity got the better of him. It wasn't like he hadn't heard them, there always _were_ rumours at FOXHOUND, even before Snake had joined, and not a small amount of those rumours happened to surround the "Hell Master" Miller himself. 

"What rumours?" he asked, an unmoving frown still glued to his face. He was being unfair and selfish, yes, but for some reason (it was probably Ocelot's fault) he _really_ , really wanted to hear it from Snake's mouth. 

Snake’s eyes were fixed on his boots. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me. That’s an order, Snake.”

Whether or not Miller technically had the authority to issue orders outside of training, it still made Snake flinch and look guiltily up at him. 

“Some people think you and I are…” he trailed off, though he had already been mumbling almost unintelligibly, and made a vaguely suggestive hand gesture. Then added, pointlessly, “sir.”

Miller felt cold. It wasn’t even like he was surprised. Soldiers said all sorts of stupid shit and there were a few of them who definitely knew about Miller’s past with Big Boss, either because they had been members of Outer Heaven once themselves or knew someone who was. (Even worse was anyone who remembered how he was at MSF.)

“Who’s saying that?” he barked.

“I don’t know,” Snake blatantly lied to his face. “I was told about it. I don’t know who actually thinks it.”

Like hell. Miller could all to vividly imagine one of Snake’s comrades corning him to ask if he was really fucking the Hell Master. Honestly, he didn’t even give a damn about his own reputation - his marriage was already over and Big Boss was never getting rid of him. It didn’t matter what the recruits thought of him and long as they still did their training. What concerned him was how easily that kind of shit could get out of hand. Especially where someone as oblivious and inexperienced as Snake was concerned.

“Were you asked about it, Snake?”

“Hmrgh...”

“What did you say?”

Snake finally looked at him, eyeing him in a way that showed he was both confused and unsettled by Miller’s reaction.

"...I said that the Master's not gay. Since you were married and had Cathy and all that."

"Hm."

Snake frowned deeply and looked away in shame. "They laughed and told me you're a queer, sir."

"Jesus Christ, Snake. You're a fucking soldier–" Miller growled at him. "You were doing fine with _this_ until now. Don't tell me that idiotic locker-room talk is the reason you are acting like a little girl about the field training."

Straightening up, Snake shook his head. "No, Master Miller, sir! I-It's fine. I just told you because you asked, sir!" 

God, Miller felt awful, but this was the most graceful he could be about this issue while on FOXHOUND grounds. 

"Go and join the others, maybe a little more exercise will get your mind off things. You're dismissed."

Snake nodded, clearly puzzled by Miller's demeanour but oh so faithful to his obedience as he gathered his things and made to leave. 

"Oh, and Snake?" Miller lowered his shades to make direct eye contact. Snake froze. "Taro needs someone to walk him this afternoon, Cathy's very busy with homework lately. I'm sure she'd be overjoyed if you'd drop by to help her out." 

He watched the kid run off and really, genuinely wished that he could feel guilty about this. 

But Snake's confused face felt like a little treasure, something only Miller could have and cradle to his chest in secrecy. He never acted this way around others (and as far as Miller could tell not even with Fox), but for some reason Snake became all raw and vulnerable when left alone with his Hell Master and Miller could tell the boy was getting increasingly frustrated by it. 

What he wasn't sure about, though, was how Snake would eventually react if Miller kept pushing his buttons solely for his own private enjoyment. 

"God, I'm awful." He mumbled to himself as he walked to his office, imagining the faint ringing of spurs echoing through the hallways. "This is all _your_ fault."

* * *

The year crept on. They should have never worried about the survival field training; everything went fine, at least on paper. Miller had ended up pairing Snake and Fox after all, seeing as there wasn’t much else he could do. He expected them to set a new record together but they were the last ones to drag themselves to the target area, half-dead. Turned out Fox had given himself a nasty, gory injury doing something stupid, and Snake stayed behind with him until he was mobile again.

That wasn’t how things were supposed to work in FOXHOUND but Miller didn’t have it in his heart to be anything other than proud. Big Boss himself scolded Snake for sabotaging his own time to stick with Fox like a mindless dog -- but Miller had always prized dogs for their loyalty.

He wasn’t supposed to tell Snake that, but he did. The sheepish snort and smile he got in response was all he needed to know that he was right. 

Eventually Miller relented and allowed Cathy to invite Snake to her tenth birthday party, bringing the total number of attendees up to three, counting her and Miller. (Mrs. Gallego didn’t let Camilla come to the Millers’ house.) Snake bought Cathy a stuffed husky and Miller spent all day cooking all of Cathy’s favorite foods, even the ones that required ingredients he had to special order in advance - it was hard as fuck to get breadfruit on the US mainland, but Miller was extremely proud of the fact that Cathy considered his creole cooking even better than Nadine’s.

For some reason Fox picked up Snake after Cathy went to bed that night. Miller didn’t ask why. Something must have happened between the two of them during the survival field training. He would not put it past Fox at all to get horny with half his gut hanging out his torso, and he was probably better off not knowing how Snake could have been cajoled into it. He still wanted to think Snake wasn’t going to end up like his father.

Nadine called. She said she would come visit for Christmas. She was never shy about the fact that she missed Cathy but for the first time since the divorce she told Miller that she missed him.

Maybe they still had a chance to give Cathy something like a normal childhood.

Especially without Ocelot around. He hadn’t seen him again after that ill-advised night and the only thing he’d heard from him was a postcard from Eritrea, addressed to Cathy for her birthday. Miller had not been aware that the Eritrean Postal Service actually made deliveries. He didn’t attempt to mail the thank-you card Cathy wrote in return. She just taped the postcard next to the others on her bedroom wall and asked to get a World Map so she could trace Ocelot's "business travels". 

And then... the world ground to a halt when Fox failed to come back from Operation Intrude N312.

So that was what Ocelot had meant when he said that Big Boss wasn’t going to stick to FOXHOUND for much longer. Damn him, had he known this whole time? Miller kept his mouth shut but refused to participate in mission support, even when it was Snake they sent in next - even though he was a rookie. This was attempted murder.

He owed it to Snake to debrief him when he survived.

"Hey Kid..." he said as gently as possible, voice tight in his throat. 

Snake didn't look up, nor did he salute. He just sank down in the chair in front of Miller's desk, eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He must have had hit his breaking point and promptly ignored it, venturing beyond with that terrifying determination his kind carried. 

Kaz cleared his throat and looked down at the Operation Intrude N313 logs. 

Maybe he had been foolish to assume that Snake was different from the others. 

When he opened his mouth to speak Snake didn't react and just slowly fixed him with a glare. Miller shut up and sighed. 

"Snake–" he started.

"Why weren't you doing support? Why weren't you _there??_ " Snake snapped, flinching at his own words as if the unearthed anger of them had burned him as well. "You knew this was going to happen! You _must_ have, you knew that Big Boss is–" 

"You have to calm down, Snake. There are certain reasons why I wasn't able to tell you." The same reasons why he wasn't able to tell him everything even now. 

Snake stood up and slammed his bruised hands on Miller's desk, grinding his teeth, clearly trying hard not to escalate further. He had stripped out of his uniform and had been mostly patched up by the Medical Team by now, but still looked like he had been through hell and back. 

"You told me I could trust you!" he exclaimed, this time sounding more wounded than anything else. Miller had never seen him like this, but he had dealt with plenty of soldiers breaking down over his years and calmly maintained eye contact. The corner of Snake's eye twitched and he sank down, still gripping onto the papers on Miller's desk. "...at least tell me what happened to Fox." 

"I don't Know." _Liar._ "He still hasn't returned." 

"...are they going to send someone out to look for survivors? I'll go."

Miller pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming. "Snake, NATO nuked the place. There is nobody left."

Snake's gaze shot up again. " _What?!_ There were so many civilians, people who had nothing to do with... with the regime. There were _children!_ " His eyes snapped to one of the many photographs of Catherine. 

"I-I..." Miller pushed up his glasses fully and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what to tell you. We don't get to make the decisions here, kid."

"But, _Fox–_ " Snake stopped himself and hid his face in his hands. "Why didn't he leave..." 

Miller knew what that felt like, or at least he assumed he did. He was no stranger to having someone dear to your heart ripped away so abruptly and violently. 

It was traumatic - even if it wasn't real - just manipulation, hypnosis, and years of grooming and lies. 

He let Snake sit it out in his office, watching the man– no, _boy_ he had helped corrupt all along fall apart in front of him. 

Miller felt bad, but he wasn't sure if he felt bad enough. 

"I'm leaving FOXHOUND, Master," Snake told him firmly, when they had finished the debriefing long after it had already gotten dark. 

"I understand," Miller said. "I will be as well. Campbell is probably going to take over, though I don't know what he plans on doing here now that Big Boss is gone." 

Snake nodded. "Then there's nothing left for me here. I'll... go and pack my bags then, sir." 

"You're planning to leave without being properly discharged? In the middle of the night?" Miller chuckled at that, but his chest ached all the same. 

"Well, if they need anything else from me they know how to find me." 

"You have enough cash for a motel?" This conversation felt surreal, but with the events of the past days Miller was not surprised at all. "Or do you wanna crash on my couch?" 

They didn't talk at all on the drive home. Miller knew he was going to get his ass handed to him for this by the brass the next day - hell, they both would - but at this point neither of them had anything to lose. 

When he made to unlock the front door he felt Snake's tentative hand against his arm and turned. 

It had been a while since he had held someone that _wasn't_ his daughter, though, in a twisted way he figured this wasn't all too different from comforting Cathy after she had hurt herself while playing outside or on those rare days she really, _really_ missed Nadine.

Shallow breaths shook Snake's body and Miller rubbed his back absentmindedly as the kid sobbed against his shoulder.

Miller hoped that one day he would be able to trust him again, or _anyone_ for that matter - not for his sake, but Snake's own. 

* * *

It took Miller almost thirty tries to find a number Ocelot had left him that still worked. He knew he had got him when the line managed to connect but wasn’t answered with foreign mumbling - instead, a depressed silence. But he didn’t hang up.

“Ocelot?” Miller said tentatively. “Where are you right now?”

“...shut up, Kaz.”

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Ocelot didn't answer. 

Miller sighed and shouldered the phone. "You knew all along this was going to happen, didn't you?" 

"Well, I wasn't _supposed_ to..."

Ah, curiosity killed the cat. Quite literally, in this case - Ocelot _had_ been fucking weird lately. 

"Listen, tell me where the fuck you are staying right now and I will try to meet you as quickly as I can manage."

" _Why_?" Ocelot sounded genuinely confused which made Miller grin at the ceiling tiredly.

"Because even you don't deserve to be alone with this." 

"Well, evidently I'm not alone," Ocelot said defensively. "I’ve got _you_ calling me all desperate and–" 

There was a pause. Miller checked if the phone was still on. "Ocelot?" 

"I'm in Vegas."

"...what the fuck, Ocelot?" 

"It's been a long fucking week, Kaz. You have no right to judge me."

Miller looked at his alarm clock. "That's a twelve-hour drive. We're having gratin dauphinoise for dinner, think you can make it?" 

"Fine. But I'm getting McDonald's on the way, I can't stand that French shit you always make."

"Please, you _love_ it. Don't forget to get Cathy a souvenir, she's smart enough to know a card isn't enough from you," Kaz laughed and actually didn't feel like complete shit for a second. 

Then they hung up, and without Ocelot's annoying voice against his ear he fell back into reality quite harshly. 

Cathy tugged on his arm. He looked down.

“Is Uncle Ocelot going to be here for dinner?” she said.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Nuh-uh. You just said it’s a twelve-hour drive, Daddy, I heard you.”

“...dinner tomorrow,” Miller promised. He had to sober him up by then, too. “Maybe lunch.”

“Is he having a sleepover? When’s he going home?”

Miller shook his head. “...I don’t know when we’re going to see him again after this, Cathy. Probably not for a long time.”

And - despite being visibly confused at her father's words - Catherine nodded and grabbed his real hand, gently holding it between her much smaller ones. 

**Author's Note:**

> be sure to leave a comment! we love comments even more than we love bullying ocelot with french things!


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